Our first kilometers by bike: bikepacking in Canada
Without our bikes in Canada by bikepacking
Arrival on the North American continent
After meticulous preparation, we arrived at Calgary airport on June 15, 2024, to begin our bikepacking adventure in Canada. In front of the airport conveyor belt, we are waiting for our most precious possession: our home and our means of locomotion - our bikes. Without a moment's hesitation, we make our way to the oversized baggage counter.
After all, there was no need to worry: an agent in Paris had assured us that we would receive our bikes in one piece. And yet... no sign of our bikes. Stranded, destitute and, above all, without a delivery date, we're stuck - and so are they, still in Paris.
Fortunately, friends of Julien's family live on the spot and offer to let us stay with them until we find a solution or until our bikes are finally delivered to the airport. That's how we met Monique and Mike, a kind-hearted retired couple who welcomed us as if they'd known us all our lives. What a comfort to us!
However, the days go by without the shadow of our bikes. To get around freely, Mike lends us some. We took the opportunity to discover Calgary. A first for both of us in this country, and more broadly for me in North America. We wander around, exploring the streets and these disproportionately large avenues.
After four days of rest and rain, we finally received some good news: our bikes should be arriving soon! At last! As luck would have it, they're arriving at the same time as the sun (a sign?!), perfect timing for launching this great bikepacking adventure from Calgary to Patagonia.
Assembling our bikes
Once the parcels had been delivered, it was time for assembly. A few train journeys with our bikes had already given us a certain agility in this area. The only difference this time was that we had to deflate our tires to take the plane.
Julien, who rides tubeless, now has to "slam" his tires - as we say in the jargon. In other words, it's a matter of injecting enough air between the tire and the rim for them to grip properly without an inner tube.
Normally, this operation is performed using a compressor, which sends out a strong pulse of air to flatten the tire walls in a matter of seconds.
Except that our dear hosts don't have any...
That's when Mike, aka the Geo Trouvetou, finds us a piece of string! Like a cycling Rambo, he saws Julien's rear tire. We watch, slightly dubious. As he struggles with his piece of rubber, he says:
- Inflate quickly!
MIRACLE! The tire slams!
Canada by bikepacking: The big departure
The first few kilometers
June 19 marks the start of our adventure. We take our first pedal stroke of a long series. How many will there be? It's hard to say for sure.
But those first few kilometers were chaotic. Where's our stuff? Where did we put our cereal bars? It's impossible to remember. And yet, our panniers are full of neither secret pockets nor unsuspected hiding places. It will take us a few days, and no doubt several adjustments, to get to know our bikes and their contents inside out.
But here, in the heart of Alberta, with the snow-capped mountains as a backdrop, we feel right at home. Little by little, we find our rhythm. Sometimes I ride behind Julien on the highway to avoid overtaking too closely, sometimes we pedal side by side, trying to put into words all the excitement we're feeling. What luck! What freedom! For a year, we've been dreaming of this first bikepacking adventure, and here we are at last.
Shy in the face of nature's immensity, we don't yet dare shout out our happiness. But with eyes shining with emotion, we savor the moment... until a sign stops us in our tracks: "No trespassing".
And suddenly everything stops
During our bikepacking trip to Canada, we knew we'd come across this kind of sign. But so soon? We wouldn't have bet on it. And yet, we had to make a choice: continue despite the ban? Or risk getting caught? One thought led to another, and we debated for a long time before making our decision.
It's our first day, and we feel like we're growing wings! So we went for it. And well we did. After a brief encounter with a herd of uncooperative cows, we find ourselves on a magnificent bike path.
Is it starting to rain? No problem! Nothing can dampen our spirits today. We're making good progress, snapping a few photos here and there, gradually getting used to the weight of our bikes - which is far from negligible - and, above all, savoring every moment.
Heading south
It's the perfect time to take stock of our destination. Julien's dream for several years had been to ride the Great Divide. In other words, a gravel road linking Canada by bikepacking to New Mexico. In short, it's the great crossing of Uncle Sam's country that all mountain bike fans dream of doing.
On paper, I'm not against it. The trailhead is in Banff - close to Calgary - and the roads look very nice. The only thing I have a problem with is crossing the US without seeing at least a few mythical towns or national parks.
So, let's split the difference! We'll follow the Great Divide from Canada to Colorado, and from Colorado we'll leave it to improvisation!
The Indian reserve
Nothing on the horizon
To break the monotony of the highway that separates us from Banff, we decide to take a stretch of road through an Indian reserve. Perhaps not the best idea (according to the locals, terrified of venturing onto these dirt roads). But, listening only to our courage - and probably our naivety - we go for it.
As we enter, a field of bison adjacent to a farm catches our eye. Curious, we decide to go and meet the inhabitants of this atypical farm to ask for permission to pass through their land. We are warmly welcomed by three native farmers, who advise us to proceed with caution and to stop as soon as a car approaches.
Indeed, alcohol is one of the major scourges of communities living on certain reserves. With few means at their disposal, some locals spend the day in bars outside the reserve before returning home, often a little tipsy. Less attentive, some drivers may target us, not with malicious intent, but simply out of carelessness.
With these fine words, we hit the road with a lump in our stomachs. The first 30 kilometers pass without a hitch. No cars in sight, no bears or grizzlies: everything under control.
Our encounter with the Indians
Only 10 km to go, and we're making good progress. In the distance, we see our first car. Julien and I get organized and decide on our plan of attack: gentle and sweet! It's impossible to be mean to two smiling, willing travelers on bikes, isn't it?
The car stops at our level. Sadly, we realize that the three farmers we met earlier were right. As soon as the window is down, we can already smell the alcohol rising to our ears. A sad sight.
The man orders us to turn back or face a hefty fine if anyone finds us here without authorization. We try to argue with him. But his patience is clearly short-lived, and he puts an end to our conversation with a "It's a reserve maaaan...". Then he closes his window and drives off.
We were stunned, all the more so as, over the last 10 kilometers, we had several encounters of the same kind. All equally soaked, they try to have a coherent discourse... to no avail.
We manage to escape without paying a fine, but with a heavy heart at seeing this community in such a state.
Getting your bearings away from it all
Thanks Daddy
We continue on our way, this time on the freeway. As daylight begins to fade, we need to find shelter quickly. This morning, Julien had spotted a campsite a few kilometers from the Indian reserve. So we headed for it.
At our wits' end, we finally reach this makeshift campsite. We seem to be the only ones camping here. The owner welcomes us and asks us to pay cash for our pitch. He doesn't take cards, as there's no network in this part of the forest.
Gloups... We didn't think to take any cash with us! Beginner's mistake. We'll keep that in mind for future trips.
And then, a stroke of genius! I think back to my farewell with my grandparents. My grandfather (Daddy, to his friends) had slipped me a wad of 100 dollars and said, "It's not to buy you drugs! I remember stammering a thank-you, both embarrassed and confused.
But, Daddy, rest assured: the first $15 of this bundle has been put to good use! As for the next ones... I can't promise anything yet!
Final thoughts before bedtime
A friend once said to me: "First times are rare at our age. It seemed so true before we left. Today, I have the feeling that routine is a distant memory.
This first day is all about discovery. It's the first time we've set up camp in the wilderness after 60 km on the trail, the first time we've been afraid of bears, the first time we've enjoyed the end of the day by the fire... well, by our stove to begin with! (Like Cro-Magnon men, we won't discover this evolution until a little later in our adventure).
In short, a great first day bikepacking in Canada that's already shaping up to be a week-long adventure! The rest looks promising.
Leave a comment